Kingsman: The Secret Service is shocking

There's a scene in Matthew Vaughn's 2010 film Kick-Ass when a then-12-year-old Chloë Grace Moretz arrives from nowhere, adorned in a purple wig and a cape, whirling across the room, dispatching limbs from the bodies of armed gangsters with gleeful abandon. "OK, you c***s. Let's see what you can do now."

This moment wasn't greeted with controversy so much as it actively sought it out - a two-finger salute not just to safe Hollywood film-making (the film was turned away from the major studios, financed independently, and then was at the centre of a studio scrum for distribution rights), but to anyone out there looking to be offended.

Now, five years later, Millar seems even more determined to leave the 'shocked and appalled' crowd more shocked and more appalled than ever before with Kingsman: The Secret Service. Don't be fooled by the Colin Firth and Take That-focused marketing drive - anyone expecting a charming, old-school spy jaunt should brace for a sock around the chops.

Kick-Ass in many ways, bringing back the triple-threat combination that made the superhero piss-take/homage such a surprise hit - Vaughn directs from a script by Jane Goldman, based on a comic book by Mark Millar. Kingsman applies the same treatment to Sixties James Bond films - on the one hand in thrall to them, on the other subverting them at every turn. It's self-aware, very funny, and very, very violent.

When young South Londoner Eggsy (Taron Egerton) is arrested, he's released by the sharp-suited Harry Hart (Colin Firth) - an old family friend with a debt to Eggsy's family.

Despite his harmless appearance, Hart is actually a Kingsman agent, a member of a gentlemanly secret service with hidden headquarters in Savile Row. Eggsy joins the ranks, swapping his trainers for smart leather shoes ("Oxfords, never brogues,"

Hart advises), and facing up against the evil Valentine - Samuel L Jackson as a brash, obnoxious, pop culture-savvy American with a thick lithp - who's hatched an explosive plan to change the world.

Effectively an origin story, there are plenty of plot threads to juggle in the first half of the film, and while it's always entertaining, at times it suffers from the same issues as Vaughn's previous film, X-Men: First Class. There are so many individual cogs that need cranking up, and the film's focus continues to hop every time you get invested in a different area of the story.

But once the machine fully kicks into gear, the final third is a rebellious, freewheeling delight. The fight scenes are absolutely outstanding, coming on like The Raid meets The World's End's epic pub brawl, with frenetic camera movements that make every punch feel visceral.

Egerton is a newcomer in the lead role, and he's excellent - rebellious enough to convince as a troubled youth, charming enough to win your sympathy. Then there's Colin Firth - simply put, you'll never think of him in the same way again.

There are inherent problems in Vaughn's film - as well as the aforementioned pacing, there are some potentially thorny issues in the film's depiction of class (posh bloke rescues scruffy kid from poor background), though the central message - that it's your actions, not your accent, that really counts - is positive once you get through all the hacked limbs.

As an exercise in hyper-violent style, with audacious wit and confidence, Kingman is immense fun - while the gritty Bond films have been admittedly great, you'll be glad that the spy movie is allowed to be ridiculous again.